Dolly Parton

"9 TO 5 (1980). The greatest audience movie ever made. I saw this when it was released in 1980 in a theater in Zion - at the dusky dawn of the Reagan era. Of course, we all loved it. Singing and clapping along to Dolly’s theme song. Cheering and bursting into applause everytime one of the ladies would reach the end of their rope with Dabney Coleman. It was like a rock concert. The last time I saw it was during a Dolly Parton film festival at the @musicboxchicago in flaming liberal Chicago - and the reaction was exactly the same. As great as Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin were (and are) in the movie, I have to think this universal adoration is mostly due to Dolly - the woman the New York Times once named the only thing ‘we can all agree on’. A person of endless positivity and good cheer - but cut with street smart awareness and a winking sex appeal. She knew who she was and she could see a jerk-off asshole coming a mile away. And I’m sure she saw a LOT of them - but l’d also wager that she never wasted a whole lot of time worrying about any of them. What’s the point? And besides — nobody’s perfect. Someone sent me a text today that read ‘This country no longer deserved her anyway’. That may be true - even though a truer sentiment would be that maybe we need her now more than ever- but Dolly never would’ve tolerated that kind of cynicism and defeatism. It wasn’t in her. Or her music. And it shouldn’t be in us. R.I.P., Dolly. We will always love you."

Local H's Scott Lucas remembering Dolly Parton. There's a lovely tribute to her on the Local H podcast Lifers this week.

Local H, "Wolf Like Me"

Brian St. Clair, one of modern rock's best drummers, is leaving Local H at the end of their fall tour. That news gets more serious when you remember that he's 50% of the band and that he's played with Scott Lucas for 14 years, even longer than Local H's original drummer, Joe Daniels. Surpassing Daniels' role at the kit seemed unthinkable in 1999, but four horribly underrated albums since then, St. Clair has written more of the band's history than anyone outside of the founder/songwriter. His replacement, and there will definitely be one, has huge shoes to fill.



I love the way that St. Clair's drumming drives Local H's version of "Wolf Like Me," originally by TV on the Radio. Their more minimalist approach than TVOTR's puts St. Clair entirely in charge of the song's rhythm, and he scores. It'd be easy for him to show off and play circles around Jaleel Bunton (see Local H's more recent cover of Rush's "2112 Overture/The Temples of Syrinx"), but here St. Clair paces himself for the song's benefit. By the second verse, you should be getting tickets to one of these shows.

Bum Notes

Local H are bums. Not the proudly ignorant type of whomever Avril Lavigne is engaged to this week, but somewhere in the 47% of Americans whom Mitt Romney (who appears here, along with Bill O'Reilly and Sarah Palin) thinks get out of paying income taxes. Songwriter Scott Lucas doesn't posture or get on a high horse, but he does still fight for concepts, albums and concept albums on the H's latest, Hallelujah! I'm a Bum.

Lucas and drummer Brian St. Clair are still flinging out minimalist riff-rock in the vein of Cheap Trick processed through Mudhoney, but on Hallelujah! I'm a Bum they're sounding more like Titus Andronicus and the Japandroids' ancestors than grunge descendants. The minimal arrangements and violent energy that characterize more recent E Street indie give songs like "Night Fight to Paris," "Cold Manor" and "Feed a Fever" a distinct bite, backed up by Lucas' unstoppable riffage. He's gotten weirder--"Paddy Considine" plays like a Chicago take on Lou Reed's "Good Evening, Mr. Waldheim," and the canine romp "Look Who's Walking on Four Legs Again" almost pretends to pretend to be alt-country. "Here Come Ol' Laptop" drags a horn section into a Stooges-esque grind. A few minute-long transfer tracks help string together a theme about the Chicago "L" train, and references to the 2012 election are abundant ("He says 'Yes, we can'/But we're grains of sand," Lucas bemoans on the record's Townsend-worthy closer, "Waves Again.") Local H don't pretend to have answers, but they also don't have to remind you that they matter.

By the time Local H's next album is out, they'll still be bums, and the Black Keys still won't have any songs as good as these.